


The Accidental Stage Hypnotist

by 221BCecil



Category: Orbiting Human Circus of the Air (Podcast)
Genre: M/M, Non-con bc of Julian not being okay with them hypnotizing him at first
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-04 10:38:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11553453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/221BCecil/pseuds/221BCecil
Summary: The first time was an accident.The second time, a request.The third time, an appeal.





	1. The Accident

**Author's Note:**

> So! I know I still haven't done anything for the Within the Wires stuff Ive started, but I was thinking about this fic I can do for John and Julian, (conveniently ignoring John's secret lover for the sake of my cute ship. Anyway.) The first chapter isn't really a chapter so much, as an establishing little drabble.
> 
>  
> 
> Hopefully this comes out as cute as it was in my head. #Rip

The first time John was hypnotized by Julian, he had not even realized what was happening until the fire department had soaked his suit. It was Jarring. Uncomfortable, unsettling, infuriating! Around him, Leticia, Jacques, The Hypnotist and the entire broadcasting ballroom, getting hosed down in order to wake them from the trance that _He_ put them in.

_Him_

The stupid, foolish, reckless Janitor who always ruined everything. Barging onto the stage, falling almost atop him from the rafters. It was like every time they tried to keep him out, he found some other way to get in or mess things up! And after the good turn that he had given Julian. **HE** had given him a chance to be on the stage, albeit as a hypnotized not entirely willing participant.

John would be lying if he said he hadnt felt a slight, ever so slight, twinge of guilt when the young janitor ran away from the stage with tears of humiliation in his eyes.  
But the guilt had been quashed when once again, Julian began endangering _His_ show, by singing and using the shower. He had tried to be appropriate; as appropriate as one could be when entering anothers shower uninvited, choosing to focus on the hand that moved, rather than the body it was attached to.

But as he watched, a calm had stolen over him. He felt less and less, like he was doing a tightrope walk on the brink of madness. The knot in his stomach worked free, the noose around his neck loosened..John could not rememeber, the last time he had felt so at peace.

 

His mind was a blank, a peaceful blank that didnt break even after Julian stopped singing. He had been floating. Outside of his body but inside of his mind. Inside of his mind but outside of its stress.

When he had been brought back out of the trance, he felt robbed. Like the fireman and his water bucket had stolen him from the land of peace Julian had unwittingly sent him to, and threw him headfirst back into the shitshow that his life was.

Leticia had to be restrained, forced to stay away from the grovelling Janitor, who swore he hadnt intended to do what he had done, who promised to even wash the tins from the pie eating cossacks to make up for it.

And surprisingly enough, John allowed it. He gave everyone the rest of the night, told them to go home, get into warm, dry clothes. He knew a storm was coming. They had been all entranced for hours. God knows how much of what Julian had said had made it to his superiors.

And he just needed a moment. A lot of wine, and a moment.

So after the sun had set, and all the lights of the tower were shut off, and over a bottle and a half of overpriced 53 Bordeaux was enjoyed, John found himself, less than half full bottle in hand, standing outside the door. He had on clothes that were not pajamas, but certainly not his usual suit and tie, and he fought a shiver. It was cold. A draft seemed to constantly be blowing its way through the small hallway. 

He raised his hand to knock on the door, but dropped it, making to walk away, only to come back and rap three times on the door to Julian the Janitors closet, stepping back just a bit.

John could hear movement, frantic, bumbling movement, before the door opened, revealing a disheveled, red-eyed Julian, clad in his dark pants and shirt. His trousers hung on a wire hanger below the saws, and his hat was on the...could one call that a nightstand beside the old ratty cot?

Brown eyes widened, as the male seemed to shrink into himself, stepping back ever so. 

"M-Mister Cameron...what are you doing here?"


	2. The Accident Pt 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He knew Mr. Cameron didnt like him. He knew he was a burden. But for the host to do that to him....
> 
> He was humiliated. He was...He was...
> 
> Angry?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, how cliche, a different POV of the same chapter. 
> 
> Well every time I listen to that episode, I just get really mad, okay?
> 
> Julian didn't deserve that. Bad John Cameron. Made worse by the fact that JK never specifically says Julian forgave John for the incident.
> 
> \--Dialogue in these lines are the Narrator speaking--  
> "Dialogues in these means talking"  
> 'Dialogue in this means thinking!'

The water that hit him was as cold as ice, which was awful, because he was already always so cold. Looking around, it was like someone had lifted the curtain on his worst nightmares. He was standing in nothing but lederhosen, in a pool full of creme, soaking wet, while the entire broadcast ballroom laughed at him. 

"I'm all wet! Its horrible!" He tried to shake himself off, tried to hide himself from the laughter, as John made a grand gesture in his direction, calling for applause for his unwitting role in this act. _'Our Subject.'_ He was their subject.

When the stage hypnotist asked what he was imagining, he felt this...heat..rising through him. From his toes it seemed to spread, filling every inch of him like a kettle about to boil. How dare they?! How could he? Everyone who knew him knew how much being on the stage meant to him. Julian told everyone with ears about his Great Grandfather. How could Mister Cameron let them use him like that? How could he just watch? Make him think he was actually being allowed to be close to the stage? As he tried to respond, he found the words blocked. like they were clamping everything inside him down so as to not combust in the middle of the show.

Hot tears sprung to his eyes, and for a second, he saw a flash of something strange on John Cameron's face. He felt everything in him spill out, and finally managed to find his voice again.

"I thought I was...Singing!" He punctured the tub, shoving past the host as he ran off the stage, the echoes loud in his head.

Even the Narrators description of his actions did nothing to quell the feeling he had as he ran into the shower, still dressed, and turned the water on. It was hot, far too hot against the chill his skin felt, but it seemed to help the heat inside him simmer, as he banged his fists on the wall, shouting about how much he hated Mister Cameron. It was then he realized, he was angry.

He was embarrassed. He was _betrayed._

But more than all of that. He was Angry. Julian didn't recognize the emotion for what it was, as he had very rarely felt it. But once he knew what it was, It was as though it flickered out like a flame, leaving him hollow and crying in the shower, blobs of Bavarian creme making their way down the drain.

The narrator begged him to stop hurting himself, and by the time he did, his hand hurt more than his wounded pride. Singing the song provided a small comfort to him, and he let it, let the song fill every chasm the events had tried to dig into him. Once the music in his head started, matching his waving arm, he lost sight of all else, letting it take him away. Letting himself go where evenings dream went. 

 

Once he had self soothed enough, he stopped, only to see the Host of the Orbiting Human Circus (of the Air) standing in the stagehand shower with him, transfixed.

Trying, and failing to wake him up, he ran past Leticia to find the hypnotist, and explain to him what he had done. When the man suggested they bring John out, he didn't like it. He had not liked being unable to consent to what was happening, and he knew John would like it even less. But fortunately the Professor had been interested in how he had managed to render John stupefied, and asked for an explanation.

Less fortunately, that explanation resulted in him hypnotizing the entire OHC crew and attendees in the audience.

 

 

It had been a strange call to make to the fire brigade, that was for certain.

By the time they got there, buckets of water and hoses in hands, Hours had passed. Julian waited hesitantly, arms wrapped around his body as they doused each member of the crew, and each member of the audience.

When Leticia was roused, she looked a bit like a soaked cat, and he had to swallow a very nervous laugh. But moments after that, she began acting like a soaked cat, as well, lunging at Julian and threatening him in French. Jacques held her back, though it looked a lot like he was struggling to do so, and Julian threw himself at Host John Cameron's feet as though he would be able to protect him from her wrath. Julian was sure. This was it. This was the last straw. He would have to find another job...another place to live. He would never be able to watch the show he loved so much again. He couldn't bear that. He begged forgiveness. Offered to do all the dishes from Yermac even though they had people for that.

So his surprise was almost palpable when John put a hand up to stop Leticias raging, and acquiesced that he would clean the dishes alongside the rest of his duties. That everyone else was to go home and change before they caught their deaths, and that he would deal with the janitor personally once he talked to the president of the company.

Julian braved a look up, and instantly wished he hadn't. John Cameron looked like he was going to kick his head a country mile away from his shoulders, but his tone was oddly even.

Julian thanked him over and over as he backed away, still in the lederhosen from the beginning of this debacle. When the host saw him, he got that same look he had worn earlier. This time, however, it didn't fade with schooling of the expression. In fact the only way Julian knew it wasn't there, was by the fact that he didn't know, but that he could no longer see the soaking wet Host.

 

His duties were arduous, they always were, leaving him exhausted by the end of them at a little before ten thirty. Cleaning all the dishes however, had him crawling to his closet after midnight.  
How did a Cossack eat so much? Julian had changed from the horrid costume into his usual clothing, and was more than happy to kick his trousers off and hang them up before collapsing onto his cot. He felt like he had run for days. He felt like he had when he had to run across town just to get away from his stepfather. Hollow, and sore, and sad.

His hand throbbed, still sore from being slammed against the tile.

\--I must say that was a spectacular guffaw on your part, Julian--

"I know...they're gonna kick me out for sure." He replied, staring at the ceiling.

\--I would be surprised if they didn't. Or at least get some kind of order prohibiting you from going near the broadcast ballroom, considering you do not technically work for the PBC--

"I would rather they kick me out." His voice was dejected. He was dejected. Julian didn't know what to do. What he could do. 

Why he had to do **anything**.

John Cameron had let the professor hypnotize him first! Against his will! Made him think he was going to be allowed close enough to see this thing that would remind him so much of his Great-Grandfather, only to trick him and humiliate him!

If John hadn't done that, none of the events that followed would have happened! He would have been happy just to be allowed that close, and would have accepted whatever punishment Leticia wanted to give him for taking the Feature Presentation.

All of this was John Cameron's fault! Why did he have to make up for it?!

As quickly as all those thoughts came, they went. The show was everything to Mister Cameron...and Julian was nothing...nothing but a burden and an annoyance. For all he knew, this was Mister Cameron trying to put him in his place.

Sighing, he rolled to his side, tugging the worn blanket up over him when there came a knock at the closet door.

Jumping up, he almost fell out of the cot, fumbling with his limbs caught in the covers for a moment before finally freeing himself to open the door to a very disheveled and very inebriated John Cameron.

"Mister Cameron?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo! More thought vomit.
> 
>  
> 
> I am like 99 percent sure this isnt even cohesive. Welp. Its out there, now.

**Author's Note:**

> So a cliff hanger! Idk, this was just a bunch of thoughts that needed to get vomited out. Ive got some ideas for Chapter 2, so lets see where that goes.
> 
>  
> 
> Comments and Kudos are always appreciated!


End file.
